


Worthless

by AltruisticSkittles



Series: The First Illuminated [1]
Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: But what else is new about my AUs, Deceit's backstory, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, His human name is Belial so you'll see that a lot, angst for miles, sympathetic deceit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltruisticSkittles/pseuds/AltruisticSkittles
Summary: He didn’t ask for this. What did he do for the world to curse him so? All it would take is one person… just one… to prove that he’s not a mistake. Not… worthless.--Chapter warnings: Angst for miles, self-deprecating thoughts, emotional abuse, crying, lying, relationship drama, sympathetic Deceit





	Worthless

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure if you follow me on Tumblr, you've already read this. It's about time I moved it here, since this AU took on way more of a life of its own than I intended.
> 
> Just be aware, this AU does contain Sympathetic Deceit, so if he's triggering or the thought of you feeling bad for him is triggering, you may want to skip out. I won't blame you; your safety is more important. <3
> 
> Enjoy~

He should’ve known from the day he was born love was not in his future.

He couldn’t remember his mother screaming and crying the day he was born. He couldn’t remember the hurt and discomfort in her eyes as she held her baby boy, a yellow tatoo on his chest, a symbol of damnation. He couldn’t remember her pushing him away.

But he could remember her disgust.

Belial, she called him.

Worthless.

What a wonderfully cruel name for a wonderfully cruel person. He hated it. He didn’t ask for any of this. So why had fate made him the target of all the world’s bad karma?

He wished he knew his father. Maybe he would’ve offered some love, some support, just a little bit of humanity. However, all he got were the pitying eyes of his mother as she ignored her least perfect child for his trophy of a sister.

Not that he could blame her. His sister was perfect. She had a beautiful white soul tattoo on her chest. So loving. So kind.

He couldn’t help but hate her.

His sister, unlike his mother, treated him with respect. She always looked out for him, smothering him with love and affection. He was sure it was more out of pity than anything, especially since she’d always be touching that stupid fausmark. She kept telling him he was beautiful, and he didn’t need a soulmate to be happy.

True, people didn’t always love their soulmates. Some people were happily married while having platonic soulmates, a best friend they couldn’t live without.

Still, it would’ve been nice to have one. Just one person he knew he could depend on. Was that too much to ask?

He’d regret that question later.

It was a day after his 14th birthday. He was playing in the park, and he happened to fall off the monkey bars. Oh, his arm wasn’t supposed to bend that way. He sat there in shock for a minute, not really understanding what happened, but he knew his arm was on fire.

He remembered this teen running up to him, a bit older than him, maybe 17 or 18, and asking if he was okay. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t quite hear the poor guy over his screaming.

He didn’t even recognize the green tattoo shining on the kid’s eyes at first.

Who was he? Were they soulmates? Of course not; he didn’t have a soulmark. But he couldn’t help but remember those eyes, how they were such a beautiful emerald color, how they took a bit of his pain away with every touch.

He wished he asked for his name.

After he got out of the hospital, he sat at the playground every day. Every goddamn day. Hoping. Praying. Wishing his soulmate would come back.

Maybe it was a dream? Maybe instead of seeing his soulmate, he only saw someone who was around their soulmate. Of course they weren’t his soulmate. He was soulless.

Worthless.

After his sister went off to college and his mother moved them to the other side of the goddamn state, things got bad around the house. He’d never admit it, but his mother terrified him. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing every time she screamed, every time she called him names, called him worthless, he believed her hateful words.

He was worthless, wasn’t he?

No one even cared to ask if he was okay. No one cared to take him away from this hell. Sure his sister promised him when she settled down she’d free him from his mother’s grasp, but how long would that take? She couldn’t support herself and him on a college student’s budget.

It was the thought that counted, he supposed.

He did have one respite from the hatred, and that was his magic. He loved magic. The illusion, the thrill it gave to surprise people, and the idea of making people believe something that wasn’t there happened made him feel important.

It gave him just a bit of hope.

It was that magic that drew Virgil to him. Well, maybe not to him, but it at least gave him a reason to like him.

Virgil was always off on his own. He sat alone at lunch, he didn’t hang out with anyone, and he never talked to people at their school. For some reason, Virgil attracted him like a fly to honey. Maybe it was empathy, or maybe it was fate, but he just had to be Virgil’s friend.

So that afternoon, he drew up courage and sat beside Virgil at lunch.

Virgil was either indifferent, annoyed, or maybe both, but he ended up scooting down the table just a little farther. He couldn’t blame him. The school knew what he was, how worthless he really was, so why would Virgil be any different?

“You like magic?” he asked, pulling out his deck of cards.

Virgil didn’t bother answering. He instead continued to poke at his carrots, much more interested in a vegetable than a new friend.

He still couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to be his friend either.

But maybe, just maybe, he could pull him out of his shell for a moment.

He shuffled through his cards. How ironic that the ace of spades was on top. Maybe if he tried a little harder? He held the cards out like a fan toward Virgil.

“Pick one. Any one.” Smile. Remember people like it when they’re smiled at.

Virgil’s nose curled up, but he humored him for some reason. He picked out a card and looked at it.

“Don’t show me, okay?” he asked. “Just put it back in the deck wherever you want.”

Virgil did as he was told, keeping his eyes on the deck.

He shuffled through, keeping eye contact with Virgil.

“You got that card in your head?”

Virgil nodded.

He cut the cards, cut them again, and held the deck up.

“Now, when I snap my fingers, your card will be on top. You ready?”

Virgil nodded his head, maybe a little more interested. He had a bit of a light in his eye, one that almost resembled curiosity, but he did his best to hide it.

He snapped and flipped the top card up. Virgil’s jaw dropped.

“How did you do that?”

He smirked. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Virgil took the cards in his hands and shuffled through them. His jaw dropped a little more every time he realized all the cards were different. With a new determination in his eyes, Virgil pushed the cards back in his hands and said, “Do it again.”

The buzz of surprising people never failed to give him purpose.

Again and again, he pulled his trick for Virgil. And again and again, Virgil was surprised to find his card on top every time. That half smile Virgil gave sent shivers down his spine. The way his eyes lit up, the way he leaned in closer, the way he kept asking again and again to be tricked made his heart flutter.

He dared to call Virgil… a friend.

Day after day, he would sit next to Virgil at lunch. And day after day, he would show Virgil another one of his tricks. Escaping handcuffs, vanishing marbles, making cards disappear. Virgil loved it all.

And maybe, just maybe, he ended up falling in love with Virgil.

Looking back, he wished he never told him. He wished he didn’t screw up their friendship.

He wished he didn’t see that cursed fausmark glowing. He stared in the mirror of his room, eyes wide and jaw dropped. No one was around. What was going on?

He turned to the internet. From what he gathered, if a person felt strong enough emotions toward someone, their fausmark would light up. His jaw dropped. Some people speculated that a fausmark was a type of soulmark instead of a cursed mark, and it only appeared on demiromantic or demisexual people. It was a new theory, but it was important. It gave him hope.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel so worthless.

“Wait, your soulmark is glowing,” Virgil pointed out at school that day.

His stomach dropped. Virgil didn’t know. He didn’t realize it wasn’t a soulmark.

Virgil’s hand went to the back of his neck. His eyes held uncertainty, and he swallowed thickly. That despair, that feeling of emptiness, hit him like a ton of bricks. Virgil was too wonderful to wear such a disheartening expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Virgil looked down. “I can’t see… is my… no it’s stupid.”

“Nothing you could ever say would be stupid,” he replied on instinct. It shocked them both.

Virgil fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He lifted it up and turned around. For the first time, he saw the beautiful raindrop patterns on Virgil’s back. The cloud, the lightening bolt, the perfect storm. Those black lines of uncertainty curved over Virgil’s back like a painting.

“It’s beautiful,” he spoke.

Virgil snuffed. “Yeah.”

The venom in Virgil’s voice sent a sour taste to his throat. How dare he talk about himself that way? He would kiss that grimace off Virgil’s face if it was the last thing he did.

“It is!” he protested. “If only you could see what I see.”

“What do you see?” Virgil asked.

Nothing glowing, that’s for sure.

He traced his fingers over the patterns on Virgil’s back. His soulmark was incredible. Nothing like the hateful disgusting “x” pattern that ran across his chest. Reminding him there was no one out there for him.

“I see you,” he replied. He’d grow to hate the next few words coming out of his mouth, but it felt so right to say, “glowing a beautiful green color.”

“What?” Virgil turned his head to see, but he whined as his gaze fell short.

He lifted down Virgil’s shirt and took his cheeks in his hands. “We’re soulmates.”

The fear in Virgil’s eyes searched through his, searching through the trick. He swallowed thickly. If he played his cards right-

“You’re serious?” Virgil squeaked out. He had a beautiful red blush on those pale cheeks.

He faked a smile, the one he’d been perfecting since childhood, and nodded his head. The whine in Virgil’s voice shook him to his core. Virgil’s hands gripped onto his biceps, squeezing to ground himself, squeezing to make sure all this was real.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. Virgil looked shocked, but he nodded his head.

That sweet kiss, the one that tasted like peppermint chapstick, would haunt him forever. He could still smell the lavender of Virgil’s body spray. He could feel Virgil’s pulse drumming under his fingers, the breaths that shook his core, and the heat of his cheeks on his skin. The sight of Virgil’s lips on his brought a joy through his heart like no other. He swore he heard whistles.

He searched Virgil’s eyes for the same emotion. Please. Please feel what I felt. Please love me back.

The smile on Virgil’s lips was everything he hoped it would be. Warm, loving, passionate. All for him. Just for him.

Virgil put more of a spell on him than he could ever replicate with magic.

For months, the two did everything together. Each day, it proved harder and harder to keep up the ruse. Virgil wanted to see it. He couldn’t blame him. He wanted to see Virgil’s mark light up too with that green glow he predicted all those weeks ago.

He didn’t take any pictures. He refused to hold up any mirrors. He wouldn’t break the illusion.

Of course, all magic comes with a price.

And of course, he couldn’t keep up the deception forever.

He remembered the screaming, the hurt in Virgil’s eyes, the pain he never wanted to cause.

“You lied to me!” Virgil screamed and threw his pillow. He held up his hands to block each swing. “You lied, you disgusting freaking liar! You lied!”

“Virgil please-”

“No, I can’t believe you.” Virgil stopped his attack. The hate in Virgil’s eyes stung more than anything he could hit him with.

“Does me not being your soulmate actually matter?” he asked, matching Virgil’s ferocity.

“No!” Virgil spat out. Virgil was trying so hard not to cry. He wished he could brush a thumb up to wipe away Virgil’s tears, but Virgil swatted his hand away and backed up. “You think I’m mad about the stupid soulmark? I couldn’t care less! I-”

His heart broke with Virgil’s voice. A sob escaped his throat. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Virgil like this.

Yet here they were.

Virgil found his voice and continued, “I loved you. I trusted you. If… if you were lying about the soulmark, what else have you been lying to me about? Was all this a lie? Did you ever really love me?”

“Of course I did!” He snapped back, not missing how Virgil flinched as he rose to his feet. He scared him. “I never lied about loving you. How could you even ask that?”

Virgil searched his eyes, pleading, praying he was telling the truth. The tears escaped, and Virgil turned to walk away. He grabbed onto Virgil’s wrist.

“Let me go.”

“Please, don’t leave. I’m sorry.” They both cried now. “I just wanted someone to love me, and you… you felt like a dream. I couldn’t risk it. It was stupid-”

“Yeah, it was.”

“But you have to believe me. I do love you, Virgil.”

Virgil pulled his hand out of his grip. He turned with such a deadly stare, one that pierced him right to the core, and spat out, “I wish I could say the same.”

It hurt deeper than anything his mother ever called him. It hurt deeper than the pitying looks of strangers. It cut right through his soul, shattered his heart to pieces, and shook him to his core.

“Virgil, wait-”

Too late. Virgil was closing the door, closing the relationship, and closing himself off.

He fell to his knees and hugged his arms. How could he have been this stupid? How could he ruin the only friendship he ever had? How could he lie to Virgil like that?

For what felt like hours, he sat on his floor and cried. He wished he never told him. Why was he like this? Why did he lie? He didn’t want to lose Virgil, but in the end, it didn’t matter anyway. He lost the one light in his life. He couldn’t do anything right. That stupid fausmark was right. He didn’t deserve love. He didn’t deserve to find that special someone to spend the rest of his life with.

He wiped his tears away, a bitter smile rising with the sour bile in his throat.

He really was worthless, wasn’t he?

**Author's Note:**

> For more on the Illuminated universe, check out my Tumblr @altruistic-skittles


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